


Not(t) Your Average Party

by jb_mar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: A Bit of Fantasy Racism, Goblins, Half- Orcs, I don't want to disappoint you, I'm sorry I just really love these monster kids, Monster party, None of the relationships are romantic so like please don't read looking for romance, One Shot, Tieflings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_mar/pseuds/jb_mar
Summary: Nott's sticky fingers often get her into trouble, specifically in towns that aren't so fond of monsters. Lucky for her, she's surrounded herself with three other monsters, ready to kick ass in her name.I wrote this because I just love the idea of the monsters in the party becoming BFFs who have each other's backs no matter what!





	Not(t) Your Average Party

**Author's Note:**

> So, I totally love this party of monsters, and I'm absolutely desperate for this moment, honestly, I've been thinking about it for a while and I love the idea of all the monsters supporting and loving each other in place of other people who would swindle them and shy away from them because of their appearance, and I specifically set into this wanting to explore the relationship between Molly and Nott, but I then expanded it so Nott had a special moment with all of them, so please tell me if you enjoy the piece! I haven't written fanfic in forever, and Critical Role just got me in that mood! This is just a nice little one-shot I wanted to post, and will probably post more at some point in the campaign!
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> Jules

Nott had always had a knack for sniffing out shiny things. While this had at one point been a skill that came in handy, mainly with her tribe and occasionally when she and Caleb were down a pretty penny, it had become more of an annoying itch as of recent, and occasionally the reason their group of misfits had gotten themselves into quite a few scrapes. She had been trying, she really had, to keep her eyes on the ground, her hands in her pockets, and her sticky fingers on lock, but occasionally the urge just kind of took her over, like a wave of magical energy, or drunkenness in the dark. Nott’s affinity for the finer things in life, the precious and the pretties, could never really be satisfied, but the more she took, the happier she was, and thus the party never truly addressed the issue. She had been given a few warnings, mainly by Caleb or Fjord, but no one had really done anything to stop her directly. She was who she was, and her new found friends weren’t going to try and get her to be anyone else. That’s what she liked about them.

It wasn’t quite the itch’s fault they had stopped in the city they were in now, though it did have a little to do with it. Nott’s last attempt at adding a rock to her collection in the town they had visited prior hadn’t ended too well on Caleb’s part, as rushing in to protect the goblin girl had landed him with a pretty heavy blow to the skull, knocking him unconscious so quickly that they didn’t even have a chance to rest up from their fight only hours before, and for all of Jester’s prayers to The Traveller, she could only do so much. Thus, their last healing potion was used in an attempt to restore Caleb from his comatose state. While Nott was grateful they wouldn’t have to bury her friend that day, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as she watched the last bit of potion drip into the man’s mouth as he rose from the ground in a coughing fit. Avoiding the watching eyes of the authorities, the small group left the town in a hurry, as echos of the term “Filthy goblin thief” filled the air of the marketplace.

As soon as they made it to the next town on their map, Caleb booked it for the nearby magic shop, a rundown little joint with a rickety old porch. From the cart parked just outside, Nott could see her ginger friend through the window, conversing with the shop keep amongst what looked like thousands of little golden baubles and trinkets dangling precariously from chains from the ceiling. The decor was much appreciated by the little goblin, who watched them swing back and forth in time, almost as if they were dancing, the warm light from the candles inside reflecting off the ornaments. Nott longed to be inside with her friend, to scurry up one of those bookshelves lining the wall and pluck one from it’s perch, as if it were a ripe apple off a tree in fall, but there was a reason they didn’t let her go shopping with Caleb anymore, and if Nott had to guess, this was probably why. No, she thought to herself, I should focus on other things. Anything else at all.

Ripping her attention away, she turned her view to the sparkling night sky. Exandria’s two moons were crescent shaped tonight, and thus Jester was thoroughly enjoying them. The blue tiefling was sat towards the front of the cart, leading her face in her hand as she pointed up to the sky. “And that one, my Mother told me, is called The Raven’s Champion,” She chirped in her accent, pointing towards a cluster of stars in a line close to the first moon. If Nott squinted while looking at them, she could have sworn she could make out three daggers side by side in the vastness of black. “Mother told me that it stands for a member of Vox Machina, but I think it just looks like a bunch of dicks!”

“I’m pretty sure you think everything looks like a bunch of dicks.” The blunt tone of Beau cut through Jester’s excited prattle like a knife.

“I just like dicks, okay?” Jester shrugged, causing a few of the shiny jingle bells on her outfit to rattle.

Nearby, a small chuckle could be heard from the dozing off Mollymauk, his eyes closed as he lazily lounged stretched out in the cart. His tail twitched slightly as he laughed at Jester’s comment, but his eyes remained closed as he shifted. As he did, the piercings on his horns reflected moonlight, and Nott’s eyes widened. Her hands reached out slowly before she stopped herself, remembering what happened last time she had tried to take one of the pretties off of Molly’s horns while he was sleeping. As tempting as the jewelry was, Molly’s ferocity in that terrifying language he had yelled at her in was enough to knock the thought straight from Nott’s head. She wasn’t quite in the mood to be yelled at tonight.

She tried focusing her attention on Beau and Jester’s admittedly loud conversation, however the conversation had now shifted to dicks and admittedly those were not Nott’s topic of expertise. She could try getting some rest like Molly, but just as she was about to lay her head down in the smelly hay, something twinkling in the distance caught her eye. Sitting up quickly, her pupils dilated as she laid eyes on the prettiest little doll she had ever seen. As much as Nott loved the rocks and sticks she so often found in her possession, the trinkets she treasured most were always the little toys she picked up along the way. Before Trostenwald, she had amassed quite the collection of dollies with porcelain faces, tiny toy swords that seemed pathetic next to Fjord’s real thing, and adorable teddy bears adorned with silver armor, with name tags that Caleb told her once had read “Trinket”, as if the bears were made just for her to steal. Since they had been taken from her, she had yet to amass anything remotely close to a toy, however this lady in the window seemed to be calling to her. The little goblin snapped out of her itch induced trace, holding her breath momentarily while reaching into her pocket for her banged up flask. As she pulled it from her coat pocket and lifted it to her lips, she was disappointed as it came away dry. She furrowed her eyebrows, turning the drink upside down. Empty. “Rats…” she muttered, glancing around suddenly to make sure none of her companions had noticed. 

Nott’s eyes scanned her friends. At this point, Molly had managed to fall asleep, his lavender tail swaying back and forth as he was thoroughly enjoying whatever dream he was having, Jester and Beau were too enthralled in their conversation about anatomy, and Fjord had been tending to WC for a while now, petting the mustang’s wild and tangled mane while it chowed down on the feed. Surely the four of them wouldn’t notice if she slipped away for a second…

Hopping out of the back of the cart, careful not to step on Molly’s tail and wake him, she crept over to the store. Across the street from the magic shop, the store had a similar candleglow. Nott had seen this glow many times before, as higher class stores had a tendency to close later than cheaper ones. The sound of tiny goblin footsteps were cleverly masked by the sudden burst of a horse’s hooves as she approached the store. Reaching the door, the goblin quietly jumped up, taking hold of the door handle and pushing on it with all of her strength. Peering inside, Nott suddenly felt a surge of excitement welling up inside of her as she scanned the premise. Nott had always heard about toy stores, how high class men and women would go in and blow whatever money they had on fun junk for their children, but the logistics of such a place had never really occurred to the girl, however as she looked around this store now, she realized this was such a place. The walls were lined with endless sweets in colorful jars, sweets that would make even Jester’s belly turn, and the shelves contained the most beautiful little toys Nott had ever seen, from silver yo-yos to elegant princess dresses that from afar looked as though they would fit the tiny goblin just right. At the front desk sat a human man in his near 40s. He was a tall, muscular man with a pompous heir about him, a riegel mustache adorning his face. Nott watched as his hands moved fluidly, a paintbrush in one, a toy soldier in the other, humming to himself as he added a few small details. He was distracted. Perfect. 

Nott looked around the store, checking for other patrons before she made her way inside. Darting between the isles, the girl filled her pockets with the tiny toys, eyes gleaming with greed. Her little hands snatched up as much as she could, feeling her itch begin to satisfy, however, she came here because of one thing catching her eye, and she was damn well going to leave with it. She stealthily made her way to the display window, approaching the little doll.

The doll was tiny, just the right size for her little hands. The dress it adorned was a pale pink color, the stitching laced with beautifully shined pearls.The porcelain face stared at her with a look of expectancy, as if begging her to take it in her arms and give it a triumphant squeeze. Nott smiled slightly at the simple sight, and her hands reached out to grab it. Just as she was about to take the toy and run, however, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, gipping her and keeping her in place. “Little girl, where are your parents?” The voice muttered, and though it was soft in volume, it was stirn in tone, the implication that she didn’t belong. 

Her feet reluctantly moved as the hand turned her to face him, and her heart sank as she saw before her the face of the man at the desk just moments before. His glasses were on the brim of his nose, and he pushed them up to get a better look at the urchin before him, a sour look on his face. “You do realize it’s impolite to just touch the wares on display, correct?”

Nott hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, knowing as soon as she spoke her cover would be blown, for as easy to see through as her disguise was anyway, the minute she spoke without moving her lips, she would be as good as dead. However, the choice was made for her as the man’s eyes drifted to the rather large bulge in her coat pocket. His eyes narrowed, reaching down into her pocket and taking out what he found, a small wind up bird that had been taken off a shelf two rows down. The man’s grip on her tightened and Nott let out a small, frightened squeak as he picked her up by the collar of her cloak, his face red and scary. “You little thief! You were trying to rob my store?!” The man’s voice became louder, angrier, and his facial expression grew as she refused to answer as well. “Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself, child?”

With his question hanging in the air, Nott watched in horror as the man first noticed her tail, swishing and dangling below her frantically as she struggled to get free. His mouth hung open in shock, adjusting his glasses to get a better look at the supposed child before him. The toymaker suddenly reached out, grabbing Nott’s porcelain mask and tearing it off her face, revealing the green skin and pointed teeth below. Surprised by this, he yelped, dropping the girl in shock. Nott hit the floor with a thud, all the items in her collection spilling from her pockets, all her rocks and gems and little toys. Her gaze darted from the open door just within reach, to her collection on the floor, and dove face first into the jewels, scooping up as much as she could and shoving it back into her clothes. She hoped she could salvage whatever she could and run out of the room before the man recovered from shock, however that was not the case, as the toymaker rushed forward, grabbing a rapier from his side. His hands twitching, he lunged forward, taking a swipe at the goblin before him. Nott cried out as the blade slashed her back and she began to scramble for the door. The man followed her with heavy footsteps, and just as she burst from the door, the man caught up to her, winding up his foot and kicking her hard in the back, sending her flying down the steps. Nott hit the ground hard, letting out a small cry of shock and sudden pain as she collided with hard pavement. She attempted to stand slowly as her body fought to recover from the blow, but she was met suddenly with another boot to the side, kicking her over in a harsh manner. Nott let out another cry, this time louder, as she felt the bones in her ribs break and shudder with her short breaths. She lay there on the cold ground, silent now, clutching her side, a small bit of blood welling up in her throat as she began to cough. The toymaker stood over her, his shadow swallowing her childlike figure in darkness, the thin blade working itself under her chin, causing her to sit up slightly, her heart pounding. “Get out of my store, you filthy creature…” The man growled, his teeth grit in a moment of pure rage.

Nott began to stand, but the man stopped her advancement by pushing the sword closer to her windpipe. Her eyes widened, realizing she may have taken this a step too far. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she spoke cautiously in her shrill tone, “Please, sir, I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-” As she stammered over her words, she was cut off suddenly by a lash to the chest. She fell to her knees, clutching her aching heart as the wound began to sting. Her breathing quickened, pulling her hand back to look it over, noting the dark colored blood soaking it.

“Shut up. You have no right to talk to me, you nasty thief!” The words were spit at her like arrows and the goblin felt them pierce her back sharply.

The man took a few steps forward, now towering over the little girl cowering before him. “Things like you don’t deserve to step foot in this town, let alone live here. You deserve to die like the scum you are in the streets.” The snarl in his voice grew harsher as he moved closer. 

Nott tried to scramble back, but she felt herself losing her balance, falling on her side once more and breaking into a coughing fit. This was it, no doubt. Her itch had once again gotten the best of her and it was time to pay the price. She shut her eyes tight, wincing as the man raised his arm. However, just as the goblin’s life had begun flashing before her eyes, she heard a small noise at the end of the alleyway, like a throat clearing itself, announcing its presence. Suddenly, everything smelled of burning embers and scorched hair. Quivering, Nott timidly opened one eye, shaking like a leaf. Much to the goblin’s surprise, at the end of the alleyway stood three familiar figures just barely visible through the shadows, one large, hulking figure of a man, the others lithe creatures with prominent horns. Jester’s voice was a soothing sound as the tiefling woman stepped into the dim light, her hands still smoking from a Fire Bolt spell, her face oddly stirn. “Excuse me, sir, what are you doing to my friend? I know you don’t know her, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to stab her, she’ll bleed out.”

Flanked by Mollymauk on the left and Fjord on the right, the cleric approached, arms crossed. As she did, the man quickly turned his rapier from the goblin to the woman before him, his eyes still filled with white hot fear. His hands shook as his eyes scanned Jester, nervously. It was in that moment that Nott realized what the true issue was here. It wasn’t that she was stealing, no. Of course he’d be upset if someone had been just stealing from him, anyone would, but that wasn’t the reason he had turned a sword on her. No, the way the toymaker’s eyes jumped from Jester’s bright blue skin, to Molly’s decked out horns, to Fjord’s half orc claws the same way they had glared at Nott’s ugly goblin face spoke wonders before he even uttered a word. When he did though, that made it the clearest of all. The man swallowed a hard lump in his throat, chuckling slightly as he looked the cleric up and down. “Figures. I knew there’s no goblin hoard within this town for miles. I couldn’t figure out where the little rat had come from, but now I get. It came here with a party of freaks.”

The man sneered the last word of his sentence.  _ Freaks.  _ Again, Nott felt a sword to her heart, but not in a literal sense. Fjord, who had rushed to Nott’s side and had been checking her wounds as Jester went off, noticeably tensed at the word, his hand freezing where they were and looking up at the man before them in a moment of shock. Jester and Molly, on the other hand, exchanged a small glance, Molly raising an eyebrow. “Freaks, huh? That’s what you’re going with? You don’t want to be a little more, I don’t know, creative? Give it a little flare? Make it your own? C’mon, freaks is so, so cliche, and terribly tacky.” The purple circus man gave the toymaker a toothy grin, as charming as ever.

“Yeah, dude, we’re tieflings. If you want to insult us, you’re gonna have to come up with something a bit better” Jester noted as she rocked back and forth from her heels to her toes in an attempt to make herself look larger than she was.

The man held himself up with a more confident heir than he had been, a smirk plastered on his smug face. “Alright. How about this? We don’t allow monsters like you all in our town here. Our community is safe and profitable, we don’t need to ruined by the likes of orcs, or devils or thieves!” The man spit in Fjord and Nott’s direction, the glob landing right by Fjord’s feet.

Suddenly, the half- orc was standing, cradling Nott’s body so close to his chest she could hear his beating heart pounding loudly in her ears. There was an annoyance in his posture, but he took a deep breath, obviously wanting to go the diplomatic route with this. “C’mon partner. The girl didn’t mean any harm by it. She’s got a problem with sticky fingers, always has. We try our best to keep it under wraps, but sometimes she slips up. She’s really a great girl, I promise, and I’m sure if you just asked for your things back instead of attacking, we all could have-” The sound in his throat was immediately swallowed as Fjord cautiously took a step towards the man. The toymaker lunged forward, the weapon still out, reaching to strike Nott out of the half orc’s hands, but Fjord’s reaction time was impressive, somehow managing to bring Nott even closer in towards him, grunting as the rapier left a solid gash on his arm.

In less than a split second, Mollymauk had rushed forward, grabbing the older man by the collar of his shirt. The tiefling’s eyes were somehow full of a mixture of hatred and coyness all on the same breath as his forked tongue flicked intimidatingly.The toymaker’s eyes widened as obviously this “beast” was far too close for comfort. The man tried to pull his arm away, but that only made Molly hold tighter, his dark purple nails digging into the skin of his arm. The tiefling smiled his most sinister smile, his face screwed and contorted. As his face expanded, the half devil began to speak in a deeper voice that echoed in on itself, the language incomprehensible. Nott flinched, recognizing what she often referred to as Molly’s angry voice. Fjord also looked on with a look of disgust, however as Molly spoke, Jester’s eyes seemed to soften as a smile began to tug slightly on her lips. 

Nott blinked and suddenly Molly’s swords were at the man’s throat, his own blood dripping from the blade. The toymaker’s eyes widened as the terrifying man before him stared him down like a piece of meat. “I suggest you get the hell out of here if you want to leave with your head attached. Am I crystal clear?” The tiefling growled, practically emitting a glow of ferocity. 

Slowly, the toymaker sheathed his rapier, keeping his eye contact with Molly’s pupiless ones before his gaze shifted back to the bleeding half orc cradling the tiny rogue. He snorted indignantly and his jaw harded. He spoke in a tone that was laced with poison. “You all better leave this town before sun up. We don’t take lightly to uncivil beasts. I won’t hesitate to call the town guards on you all, and once I tell them your little pet is a thief, they won’t be as kind as me.”

Nott’s yellow eyes welled up with tears in the darkness as she heard the footsteps wander back down the alleyway and the slight jingle of the toy store door opening and slamming shut, the sound of four distinct locks clicking into place. Suddenly, Jester’s hands were all over her, tracing her wounds with her gentle fingers. “Oh no, Nott… Oh no, oh no, oh no!” She muttered, before sighing with relief, her hands beginning to glow a golden devine color as the goblin’s wounds began to close. A familiar female voice broke the tense silence as Beau and Caleb turned the corner into the alleyway. “Guys… Guys, I got Caleb!”

“Where’s Nott? What happened?” There was a hint of an edge to Caleb’s tone.

Fjord shifted slightly to reveal the broken goblin girl in his grasp, just barely beginning to sit up. Caleb rushed forward, taking her into his arms. Nott could feel the wetness on his face as he pulled her into the crook of his neck. “Nott… How many times do we have to tell you not to go off of your own when you get an itch?”

Fjord stood, looking off down the alleyway back towards the cart. “We can’t stay in this town. Caleb, if you’ve bought everything you need, I suggest we head back on the road soon. This place isn’t very welcoming to people like-” He stopped himself, taking a second to look between the shivering Nott, the sullen Jester and the irritated Molly, who’s back was to the wall, arms crossed, tail giving away his annoyed demeanor as it whipped around “New people.”

It was nearly cresting sunrise now, and Nott had found very quickly she couldn’t fall asleep. The guilt was eating at her. As much as they all denied it, she knew it was her fault they had been forced to leave again. The cart was slowly trekking on, the solid cu-chunck of the wheels stirring the rest of the sleeping passengers inside, but no one seemed to wake. Jester was at the reigns, keeping watch and making sure WC was on track, following the same constellations she had been mapping out to Beau hours before. Nott scrambled up to the front to sit next to the cleric, her feet slipping and dangling for a second, but with the help of Jester she was able to get up just fine. The two sat in silence for what seemed like forever, which was strange for Jester and even stranger for Nott. Jester did break the eerie quiet eventually, leaning over to speak to her friend. “You know, you don’t need to be upset about this. It’s not your fault, Nott. Those people were mean people. They didn’t want us there anyway.”

Nott nodded sullenly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap, not buying into Jester’s pity. “Do you want know what Molly said to that man back there? You know, when he went all  _ Haaaashhhahsshaha _ ”

The attempt at the hissing noise made Nott giggle but her eyes widened with wonder and curiosity. “You know what he said?”

“It’s a tiefling thing. Tieflings just know, you know?”

Jester put down the reigns, pulling the cart over to the side of the beaten path. She pulled the girl into her lap, beginning to run her fingers through her matted, greasy hair. Nott froze for a second, not expecting the gesture, but allowing it, closing her eyes and leaning back a little into the tiefling’s chest. As Jester began to weave little braids into Nott’s hair, she spoke in a calming voice, different and more intimate than usual. “When we were back there in that alley with that shitty man, Molly looked him dead in the eyes and said ‘No one hurts my family’.” She said with a little twinkle in her eyes. 

Nott turned her gaze in surprise to look at the purple tiefling in the back of the cart. He looked like he was dozing, however Nott could have sworn a second prior one of his eyes had been open, listening and watching. “Really? He said that?”

Jester nodded, bringing Nott’s attention forward again so she could focus on braiding. “And he’s right. We’re all a family now, Nott. I don’t know how experienced you are, but families look out for each other. You know enough. You had Caleb before us, and you both were kind of like a family.”

Nott perked up slightly as her eyes wandered back to the cart, looking over her companions. Her demeanor changed however as her gaze settled on Fjord. The half orc’s arm was bandaged and bloodied, having taken a blow for her. Nott’s ears drooped a little, her heart feeling heavy. “But Fjord…” 

“Don’t worry about Fjord. He’s built tough. He can handle a little bit of blood.” 

Nott began to feel her eyelids getting heavy. Her dirty form curled into Jester tighter as she set a loosely formed braid on the side of her shoulder. “Thank you Jester…” Nott muttered in a moment of clarity as fatigue began to take her over. 

Jester stiffened at this child sized creature curled up in her lap, cat like in her odd little ways. With a fond look, Jester draped her tail over the goblin, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face with the end of it, and for once, Nott didn’t finch back at the touch. 


End file.
